We began walking in the rain which had been steadily falling all morning since I woke up at 5am. The rain was light enough that with the proper gear, I hardly noticed, unlike a good old Texas downpour.
I was blessed to walk with a woman who has lived on Bainbridge Island for over 50 years. Her 12 year old husky mix, Macaw, was right by her side and I followed the two of them for three hours. Time stood still with the delight of accompanying such a wise, curious and spirited soul.
We discovered a few trillium flowers, wood ducks, a pond with water as still as glass, a whole variety of trees and ferns. The ferns covered the forest floor like a carpet of lush green. Her feet knew the trails of the Grand Forest like the voice of a dear friend.
And while the flora and fauna wove into our conversation, filled our vision, and delighted our senses, we mostly talked about our lives — about trauma and loss, memory and legacy, regrowth and healing. Although we are of different generations, with different backgrounds and experiences, there was also so much we shared. Over the hours, a rooted sense of connection and loving appreciation emerged.
A forest is grand not only because of the tree’s heights and the birds soaring above, but because of the deep wells of memory that allow healing to take root over time. Because of the pathways of stillness and warmth even on a cold rainy day that bridges time and hearts.
Reflections by Rabbi Kim 